Read Online All Through the Night: A Troubleshooter Christmas by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online Page B

ten thirty is fine,” he told her as he wandered toward her desk and picked up the envelope that was atop the unopened mail sitting next to her computer. “Thank you.”
    She took it out of his hands. “No touching.”
    He looked down at her and once again their gazes seemed to lock. And there it was again, that electric spark. “Do you often get mail from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?” he asked.
    Dolphina looked at the return address. Huh.
    â€œThat’s a response to their wedding invitation,” Will realized. “Did Robin really invite President Bryant to his wedding?”
    Jules and Robin had indeed done just that. It was, Jules had reassured Robin, merely an inclusive gesture. Bryant was, after all, his boss’s boss, which made him Jules’s boss, too. But, bottom line, there was no way the U.S. President was actually going to attend.
    Which was a good thing—because both Jules and Robin wanted a small wedding. A quiet, private ceremony with family and friends—really just a few dozen more people than were at today’s party.
    The President’s attendance would turn the affair into a three-ring circus, both in terms of security and media coverage. If they thought they had to fight off hoards of reporters now…God forbid the President showed up—there’d be no way they could keep the press from attending.
    â€œHot damn.” Will, meanwhile, had jumped to conclusions. “The President is coming to Robin and Jules’s wedding.”
    â€œHis secretary probably just sent his regrets,” Dolphina said.
    â€œOpen it and see,” he urged.
    She looked at him. “I won’t be able to tell you what it says. It’s not your business.”
    â€œYeah, but don’t you want to know?”
    She put the envelope down. “I’ll find out later.” On second thought, she took the entire pile of mail and put it into her desk drawer, locking it shut.
    She picked up her calendar book again. “Kuhlman or Hartz?”
    â€œExcuse me?” he said.
    â€œYour last name.” Dolphina again looked up at him. There were two different Williams on the party’s guest list. Well, three, including little Billy Richter, Robin’s pint-sized nephew. William Kuhlman was the real estate agent who’d helped Robin and Jules find this amazing house. William Hartz worked for the FBI.
    Her Will was hesitating, and she could see from his eyes that he was weighing the pros and cons of…lying to her?
    She flipped to her guest list and quickly checked and…Of course. William Kuhlman was attending the shower with his wife, Jodie.
    Nice.
    Apparently he
was
her type—already married.
    She waited.
    He gazed at her.
    She lifted an eyebrow.
    â€œWhat the hell,” he finally said. “It’s Schroeder.” He spelled it for her as she continued to stare at him. “It’s German,” he added, as if that would somehow make it more believable.
    â€œReally?” she said. “Because Kuhlman sounds German, too.”
    â€œKuhlman?” he asked. “Yeah, it probably is. Who’s Kuhlman?”
    â€œYou are,” she said. “William Kuhlman.”
    He laughed. “Wait a sec—you mean Bill, Robin’s real estate agent? I just met him in the kitchen. Nice guy. Glasses. Goatee?” She must’ve continued to exude skepticism, because he took out his wallet. “You want to see my driver’s license?” He held it out to her.
    She took it. Looked at it.
William T. Schroeder, six feet one inches tall, born May 22, 1967, 214 Massachusetts Avenue…
She turned, flipping on the office copy machine, slipping the license onto the glass and closing the lid.
    â€œHey,” he said.
    â€œYou don’t mind, do you?” Dolphina asked him as she pushed the button to copy his driver’s license.
    â€œI, uh, kind of do,” he said as the machine whirred.
    She turned it